


Inertia

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-19 19:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: Newton's first law of motion: “an object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction, unless acted upon by an outside force.”Yukari and Hitomi's friendship, through Yukari's eyes.





	Inertia

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first entry for the 2019 edition of Yearly Esca's Pic'N'Fic event. The theme was "Memories." I decided to write about Yukari and her friendship with Hitomi, also addressing a little bit of the timeline funkiness of the show from her viewpoint.
> 
> My partner for this piece is theonlytoner on Tumblr. Hope this gives you sufficient inspiration!

Kanzaki Hitomi wasn’t like girls her age. Eight-year-old girls swung on swing sets or worked their way through books. A girl of eight was learning kanji and eating sweets and candies. She did all that, sure. But still, she was different. She claimed that she saw things others didn’t, and that she had dreams that others didn’t. She was weird.

Uchida Yukari was in the same class as Hitomi. The other girls didn’t trust her or believe her when she said she saw things, though they still joked about her being possessed. But as far as Yukari could tell, Hitomi was just like everyone else. She sat in class and paid attention, most of the time; sometimes she stared out the window instead. If the teacher called on her, she’d provide an answer, and she turned in her assignments on time.

During break and lunchtime, Hitomi was usually with one or two friends, the other “outsiders.” She always had a deck of cards with her, and she would arrange the cards in front of her friends, and they would make impressed faces. It was odd, but somehow it seemed so much more interesting than the usual talk about sports or music or books.

Yukari almost always looked twice before she crossed the street on her way home. There were a lot of small intersections to cross, and even though there usually wasn’t much traffic in the evening, she always waited until the light turned green, just like her mother had told her to do, looked, and then crossed. On a day when class had let out early, she began to cross when the light turned green and only started looking when she was in the street.

“No! Don’t go yet!”

Footsteps pounded behind her. Someone her size grabbed her by her uniform collar and yanked her backward with weak force. The approaching car stopped in the middle of the intersection, and its middle-aged driver met Yukari’s eyes and shook his head before stepping on the gas.

“That was close!”

Yukari turned around. A girl her age with light brown hair in low twin pigtails. Around her neck, a chain with a pink pendant on the end.

“Hitomi-chan? You saved me?”

“I saw you getting hit by that car. I couldn’t let that happen.” Hitomi paused for a moment to catch her breath, then she asked, “Do you live nearby?”

“Yeah. You too?”

“Maybe we live on the same street. I walk behind you on my way home, but usually I’m pretty far back since I stop at the bakery.”

“Really? How did you catch up so quickly?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t stop today. I had a feeling that I shouldn’t make my usual stop.”

“But you were running. I heard your footsteps. How did you get here so fast?”

“I’ve always been a good runner. And I like to run, too, so I practice a lot. I guess I’ve gotten pretty fast.” She grinned.

“Wow.” Yukari never ran, except in gym class. She wasn’t an athlete and couldn’t really imagine enjoying running. Then she thought back to what Hitomi had said earlier, right after she’d saved her.

“Hold on, you said you ‘saw’ me getting hit by the car. What does that mean?”

“Oh, um…”

The light went green; they crossed, giving Hitomi time to think about her answer. Once they’d reached the other side, she said, “I know it’s weird, but ever since I was really little, I could see things happening before they happened.”

So _that_ was what her classmates meant when they said that Hitomi “saw things.”

“But how do I know you didn’t just see the actual car coming?”

Hitomi pouted slightly. “I saw it coming. But I _also_ saw him not looking and not stopping for you. So you would have been hit because you would have looked too late.”

Yukari hummed and folded her arms, staring at the pavement in front of her.

“If you don’t believe me, I can tell your fortune with my tarot cards.” She stopped for a moment, reached inside her uniform blazer, and pulled out a deck of cards. “I can give you a reading. I have a pretty good sense of what’s going to happen to people.”

Yukari stopped walking too. She remembered the readings Hitomi had given to her friends. It was tempting.

“Are you scared?” Hitomi frowned. “I promise it won’t be scary.”

“You don’t have to tell my fortune. I believe you.” She faced Hitomi. “I saw you giving readings to your friends. If those readings were wrong, then you wouldn’t have any friends. And if it weren’t for you, I could have been hurt. So thank you.” She smiled.

Hitomi’s eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you so much. Usually people don’t believe me so quickly, and I have to prove that I really can see things other people don’t.”

They continued down Yukari’s home street. Hitomi was positively beaming, and she started skipping down the sidewalk. Yukari started skipping too, unable to stop smiling, and stopped behind her to watch her turn a cartwheel. They were giggling and grinning. Yukari felt grateful that Hitomi had been the one to save her.

Then Hitomi stopped and pointed across the sidewalk. “There’s my house.” She smiled.

“Aww, you have to go home?” Yukari pouted. She wished they could keep walking.

“No worries, I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Bye!”

“Bye! Thanks again for saving me!”

“You bet!” came her cheery voice as she bounded across the street and toward the door of her home.

—

Yukari and Hitomi were both eleven. They were nearing the end of elementary school, and they were both excited for middle school. Yukari was excited because she would be able to join the art club. She liked drawing. Hitomi was excited because she would be old enough to try out for the junior track team. She had continued running, and though she’d tried to show Yukari how to run, Yukari didn’t have nearly enough energy to match Hitomi’s pace. She preferred to draw Hitomi in motion. The way she pumped her arms and legs was fascinating, the inhale and exhale of her breath that kept her going, how she sped like a bullet train, the soles of her sneakers skirting the grass or scraping the track. The human body in motion, a running body, was a captivating sight. Yukari’s body in motion? Not so much.

Hitomi had also kept up her fortune telling, and she continued to see things. Minor things, or odd feelings, but nothing disastrous. Nothing really plagued her or stuck with her. Yukari had never asked Hitomi to tell her fortune. Since the day Hitomi had saved her, she had never really thought to ask about it. The other girls had started asking Hitomi to tell their romantic fortunes. Would the boy they liked like them back? Yukari wasn’t interested in learning about which boy liked her, or anything about her future. She just wanted to spend as much time with Hitomi as she could. Hopefully before Hitomi decided _she_ wanted to talk about boys.

They continued to have new experiences together as friends, like going to the amusement park, taking the train from Kamakura to Shibuya to go shopping, and having their first sleepover. They put a tape in the VHS player and watched a movie, sitting in their pajamas, and when it was over, Hitomi snuck downstairs and got snacks—strawberry juice, a bag of potato sticks, and chocolates—and they lay on their stomachs, Yukari sketching a scene of runners while Hitomi narrated stories about the supernatural from a magazine to which her mom subscribed.

“‘September 13, 1941. A fifteen-year-old girl from Kamakura claimed that she traveled to another planet. Hana-chan, whose name has been changed for anonymity, was at a summer festival when a pillar of light suddenly appeared and sucked her to another world.’” Hitomi squinted at the page. “She was from Kamakura! Imagine that, if a pillar of light suddenly appeared from above.”

Yukari looked up from the runners. “You think it could happen again?”

Hitomi shrugged. “Who knows.” She took a sip from her juice box, then lifted the magazine to her face, staring intensely at its left corner. “That’s strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“Why did Kaa-san mark this page? I wonder if she knew Hana-chan.”

“Your mom isn’t _that_ old.”

“Neither is my dad. But it might be one of my grandparents. Maybe Oba-chan would have known,” she said, a little solemnly.

Hitomi’s maternal grandmother had passed away last year. Yukari had been a little envious of Hitomi’s close relationship with her grandma. One set of her grandparents lived in Kyoto, and she didn’t get to visit them very often, and didn’t know them very well; on the other side of her family, her grandfather had died before she was born, and she’d lost her grandmother when she was only four. She mourned together with Hitomi, even though she’d only met Hitomi’s grandma once; they did everything together, because that was just the kind of friends they were.

“Oba-chan gave me this pendant when I first started school. She said it was important for me to have it,” Hitomi explained, lifting her pendant from her chest. “I don’t know why, but without it I feel kind of naked.”

“You said it was your good-luck charm,” Yukari recalled, setting her face in her palms.

“It’s odd. I’m not sure why she gave it to me, but she always had the feeling she knew what was best for everyone.”

“She sounds like you.”

Hitomi’s face lit up. “You think Oba-chan saw the future too?”

“Maybe I’ve been listening to too many of your stories, but maybe that pendant has something to do with it.”

“You think so? I’ve always been curious about my pendant. Maybe it really is special.” She lifted the chain up from her neck and began to swing it. Yukari followed its hypnotizing motion, back and forth, back and forth. That pendant really was something.

Hitomi stopped the pendant and put it back around her neck, then she yawned. “Oh, maaan! I wanted to stay up all night, but I’m getting so tired.” She unrolled the bag of potato sticks and shoved a handful in her mouth. “You want to hear more stories, or should we go to bed?”

“Read more stories. I want to finish this sketch,” Yukari said, turning her attention back to her drawing as she bumped her ankles together in midair, listening to the sound of Hitomi’s voice, thinking about the swing of the pendant and the story of Hana-chan.

—

In their last year of middle school, Yukari discovered a talent she didn’t know she had. Their math class had an accounting assignment, and she was fascinated with the columns of numbers and how she could neatly line everything up. Teachers started assigning group projects, and Yukari freaked out when everything wasn’t in order. Hitomi was more easygoing and would usually give in to what the majority wanted, putting forth just enough effort to help the group pass. They had their first arguments over group assignments, because Yukari wanted perfection, and Hitomi was content to settle.

There were other things, little things, that would get on her nerves. Every time she thought she liked a boy, Hitomi confessed that she thought that same boy was cute. Yukari would say that she saw him first. Hitomi would fire back that _she_ was copying her, and Yukari would storm out on her, go to a cafe and buy milk tea, and sit there grumbling and flipping through her sketchbook. She was getting better at drawing. Unfortunately, someone was always better than she was. In art club, the high schoolers would point out all the flaws and inconsistencies in her sketches, telling her that her color choices were nonsensical at best. When she got home, she stomped up the stairs and into her room, slammed the door, threw her sketchbook against the wall, and flopped down on the bed, burying her face in her pillow to cry.

But Hitomi still liked her art. As much as they clashed now, over trivialities like boys and homework, Hitomi still liked her art. And Hitomi still ran, and they still sat on grassy hills on their backs and watched clouds go by, the sun beating on their faces. They rode the train to the beach and even went camping. They had sleepovers, walked to school together, and made faces at each other from across the room during their more boring classes. They were still Hitomi and Yukari, best friends forever. Even when they joined the track team in their first year of high school, and they both met Amano Susumu.

Yukari would no longer tell Hitomi if she liked a boy, because she knew that, without fail, Hitomi would admit she liked the same boy. Amano was no exception. Well, pretty much everyone liked him. Handsome, strong, and kind—wasn’t he every girl’s dream? Not to mention he was an athlete; Hitomi really liked that.

“Look at his time!” Yukari gushed one day during training. She couldn’t hide her amazement at how much it had gone down over the past few weeks. “He’s almost down to 11 seconds, Hitomi, isn’t that amazing? He’s going to beat the school record!”

“He’s so great!” Hitomi laced her fingers together and raised them to her chin. “I love watching him run. He has perfect form!”

“He does have an ideal form, don’t’cha think?” She nudged Hitomi in the ribs.

“ _Yukari!_ ”

She could hear the blush in Hitomi’s voice, but she laughed all the same.

“Hey, tell me something.” Hitomi leaned toward Yukari and set her chin on her shoulder. “Have you ever drawn _him_ running?”

“I have. But I prefer drawing you. I’m more used to it. You’re my favorite subject.”

“You flatter me.” Hitomi lifted her head and backed up a few steps. “I’m not that good of a runner. I’m nothing like Amano-senpai.”

Yukari turned to Hitomi; she was frowning and looking at Amano. “Don’t say that. You’ve been running your whole life, since you were little. I mean, sometimes I think, maybe I’m not meant to be an artist, but I’m gonna keep drawing, ’cause I’ve always had a sketchbook in my hand.” She gently pushed Hitomi’s shoulder. “What’s the matter? Do you want to talk about it?”

Hitomi lowered her head.

“Come on, we’ll take a walk. Tell me all about it.” She linked her arm in Hitomi’s, and they started up the stairs toward the school.

“I don’t know, I just haven’t been feeling like myself lately,” Hitomi began. “I keep having this dream where I’m in a strange place—almost like another world—and these giants made out of metal start walking toward me, and it gets very hot like something’s on fire, and then an earthquake splits the ground open, and I start falling. Then this angel with huge white wings comes and grabs my hand, lifting me up and saving me. And the dream always ends there.”

“That’s really out of the ordinary for you.” Hitomi almost never had dreams that were symbolic or incomprehensible. They were almost always about someone in real life.

Hitomi sighed. “I know. And I wake up and I’m lightheaded and my forehead is warm. It scares me. I keep having this feeling like something big is going to happen soon, like my life is going to be changed forever somehow. But usually I would _know_ what the change is.”

“You said it was in another world. Do you think, maybe—”

“Maybe I _was_ seeing another world? I have no idea. Nothing ever happens aside from that. But I keep seeing that angel. Whoever he is, he’s going to save me from the earthquake or fire or whatever’s going to happen.”

“It isn’t typhoon season yet, but I suppose an earthquake or fire would be possible.” Yukari sighed. “I really hope we don’t get hit.”

Hitomi stopped walking. Yukari stopped and stood beside her.

“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Hitomi said, her eyes beginning to water. “I don’t want to have to lose you or my family or Amano-senpai or anyone on the team. I want everyone to be safe. But how can everyone be safe if I don’t even know what’s going to happen?!”

She burst into tears.

Yukari let go of her arm and drew her into a hug, rubbing her back, feeling the dread weighing on her. What was Hitomi so scared about? Was it just the dream or was it something more? Was she scared because of all the fights they’d been having? Was she thinking about telling Amano she liked him? She didn’t even know that he was thinking about studying abroad. Was she anxious about getting her time down for the spring track meet? It was so hard to know, because there were so many things she kept inside her that she wouldn’t share with Yukari, as close as they were. She saw so many futures, told so many fortunes. Her special power was also her burden.

—

It was still hard to believe that the strange boy and Hitomi had disappeared, just like that, in a pillar of light. Yukari remembered the story from the sleepover four years ago, and she realized now that it had been true, and it had become true once again before her eyes. Hitomi’s mom told her and Amano to tell the truth if they were asked. Instead, she and Amano agreed that the best thing would be not to make anyone other than the three of them worry, and they kept it secret among themselves. It would be easier, Yukari reflected, if Hitomi were absent because she’d gotten hurt or sick and was in the hospital. If she were in the hospital, at least she’d still be here, and they could visit her. But she was completely gone. She might have died by now and no one would know. It was terrifying.

Days went by, and she kept expecting to hear Hitomi’s voice when she was waiting for the train. How she used to walk home or to the station or bakery with her, arm in arm. Yukari started buying two pastries at the bakery every day, and one day, she ate an entire box of those little chocolate and strawberry cones, thinking all the while about how it wasn’t the same without Hitomi to share. At practice she watched Amano’s time continue to go down, and when he hit 10.45, she wished she could turn to Hitomi and tell her how incredible he was.

At home, she looked through the scrapbook they’d made for the fifth anniversary of their friendship when they were thirteen. It was filled with pictures of them and brochures from all the places they’d gone. There were biographies of her and Hitomi with their birthdays and blood types and things like their favorite food, color, and movie, and what they each wanted to be when they grew up. She balanced her most recent sketchbook on her knee and turned the pages. Past all the childish drawings of initials in hearts from middle school, there were sketches of Hitomi in motion, and she kept coming back to her most recent one, from the day before Hitomi fainted at the track meet. One arm raised above her head, one arm below, her lower half unfinished, circles for the joints and lines for the legs, forever in motion, trapped on the page.

The offseason set in, and Amano’s time started to rise back to 11 seconds. Lately he had been looking listless, and Yukari knew he was losing sleep over the same thing that she was. She hadn’t been drawing, and she barely paid attention in class, not even math or art. She’d started to walk home when Amano came up to her. He had been avoiding her until now aside from the occasional glance that let her know she wasn’t alone in her despair.

“Hey, Uchida,” he said, somewhat awkwardly.

She looked up at him. “Hi, Amano.”

He dug his hands in the pockets of his track jacket. “So, um… how are you?”

She frowned. “It weighs on me every day. I can’t stop thinking about it. About where she is, and if she’s okay.”

“She’s a brave and kind girl. If she got into any trouble, she’d either convince her enemies to be her friends or she’d run away.”

Yukari laughed. It felt good to laugh. “You’re exactly right. She might talk back to them, too.”

“Really?”

Yukari nodded. “We’re both the kind of people who will stand up for ourselves. We get in a lot of fights because of that, but it’s also why we work so well, because we aren’t afraid to be honest and say what we think the other one needs to hear.”

“She _did_ tell that boy off. He deserved it though. She saved his life, and he was nothing but a jerk to her!”

“But you always said her visions were nonsense,” Yukari reminded him. “She doesn’t like people doubting her. That was the other reason she was frustrated.”

“Guess I never did take that seriously.” He looked sheepish.

She breathed in. “I know you like Hitomi. You like her a lot, but you have to like _everything_ about her. You have to believe in her and her powers. And we have to believe that she’s going to be safe.”

“You’re right. You’re her best friend, after all, and if you think she’ll be fine, then there’s no need to worry.”

“She’ll make it home. I know she will.” The more she said it, the more she believed it. She had gone back with that strange boy, too, and if he could kill a giant dragon, he could certainly ensure Hitomi’s safety.

A short silence passed between them. Yukari looked up and watched the blossoms fluttering in the breeze. Any other time, she would think _how romantic_ , especially walking next to her crush, but without Hitomi to share in the joy of the day, it didn’t feel special.

Amano’s voice broke the stillness. “So, when Kanzaki says she sees things and has dreams, she means it?”

“Why do you think all the girls ask her to tell their fortunes? She’s almost always right.”

“I didn’t realize she actually had that kind of talent.”

“Running and seeing the future, those are her two talents,” Yukari said. “Actually, there’s a bunch of other things she’s good at. She can turn perfect cartwheels, and she was always better at climbing trees than me. She’s an excellent swimmer. She’s great at narrating stories. And she always picks the best movies to watch.”

“Wow. And what about you?”

“Me?” She looked up at him as they paused at the crosswalk. “What about me?”

“What about your talents? Other than your… manager things that you do.”

“Um, well… I suppose I’m good at skipping stones. And setting up the tent when we go camping—give me good instructions, and I can put anything together. And, of course, I’m an artist.”

“You’re an artist? What do you draw?”

“I mostly draw people. Runners especially. My sketchbook is full of Hitomi.”

She realized at the same time he did how absurd that sounded, and they both bent over in laughter.

After they crossed the street, Amano pointed in the opposite direction to Yukari and Hitomi’s home street. “I live this way, but bring your sketchbook tomorrow, Uchida. Nice to talk to you.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it. See you tomorrow.” She waved to him, and when he turned around and started walking home, she had the feeling that something might be there, that something could be there, and she hated herself for thinking it without Hitomi.

—

After Hitomi returned, the three of them acted like it had never happened, like Hitomi had never disappeared. But Yukari remembered it. Amano didn’t seem to remember anything that had happened during the three months Hitomi had been gone, but _she_ remembered that boy flying in on a giant robot, Hitomi embracing him, and then the two disappearing in another pillar of light. Then Hitomi returned, and things settled back in the way they were supposed to.

Hitomi put her tarot deck away. She no longer wore her pendant—she didn’t have it at all. She’d stopped having visions, or if she still had them, she’d stopped talking about them. She’d always used to tell Yukari when she’d had one, whether it was after or before it had been fulfilled. Her future-seeing faded completely, like it had never been something she’d done. Amano seemed to forget so quickly, too, that it had ever been a part of her personality, despite that Yukari clearly remembered having told him it was real. Had those last three months happened? Had Hitomi really disappeared just like that, with that boy? And why did she keep remembering a fire-breathing dragon, and Amano carrying her on his back through the gates toward the shrine, and some blue liquid spewing everywhere?

She kept doubting the things she remembered, but she knew that if she asked Hitomi, she would probably confirm they were real. So she went on believing that Amano’s interest in her wasn’t all that sudden, and that he had a reason to ask her out instead of Hitomi. Because over those three months, they’d walked home together, gone to bakeries and cafes, gone to the beach, and to Shibuya, all the places she and Hitomi used to go, and at the summer festival they’d been sitting and watching the fireworks when he inched closer to her, and told her how much he liked having her around, and loved spending time with her, and then they’d faced each other, and, closing their eyes, leaned in—

Had all of that really not happened? Had it all been just a dream, a blissful dream haunted by their mutual loss of the girl who had brought them together in the first place?

“He doesn’t remember,” she was whispering to Hitomi, her arm linked in his and in Hitomi’s as they walked through the festival, “but we were here while you were, you know.”

Hitomi nodded, but she remained silent.

“You guys want any snacks?” Amano said. He’d been eyeing almost every stand they passed. “I’m in the mood for takoyaki, but I’ll eat anything.”

“I want to get some yakisoba,” Hitomi chimed in. “And make a quick stop at the vending machines for tea.”

“After that, we need to start up toward the hill, because the fireworks are going to begin,” Yukari reminded them.

They rushed around to different stands, eating until they could just barely walk, then made it up the hill, where they sat down on the grass. Yukari placed her backpack between her knees and leaned her head on Hitomi’s shoulder; Hitomi leaned back into her. She’d missed just having her around. She’d felt like there was a Hitomi-shaped void next to her that wasn’t being filled by her usual presence: her laugh and her smile, her body running, in motion, her jokes, her kindness.

Then Amano set his head on her shoulder, nestling in the crook of her neck. She sighed and closed her eyes, smiling dreamily. Her two treasured friends.

“I’m so happy all three of us could make it,” she said.

Amano’s hand found hers. “Me too.” He wasn’t jealous in the slightest. He knew how important Hitomi was to her.

“It’s nice to have a break before we start our second year.”

“My _last_ year.” Amano groaned. “Am I going to go to university? What am I going to study? I haven’t got a clue.”

Yukari snorted. “Do you think either of _us_ have a plan?”

“Good point.”

They were silent for a moment. Yukari looked down to check Amano’s watch. They had about fifteen minutes until the fireworks started.

“We don’t have to know right away,” Hitomi said. “We’ll know when we get there.”

Now that she didn’t always know what was going to happen, it was strange how calm she’d become. Yukari had thought she might freak out because she _didn’t_ know. That was what always ramped up Yukari’s own anxiety. But now that Hitomi had disappeared and come back, she seemed perfectly fine with the unpredictability of the world. Beginning with the fact that she had been much more accepting of Amano asking Yukari out than Yukari had expected.

“I wish I knew,” Amano said, “but you’re right, Kanzaki. I mean, I don’t have to know right away. I’ll probably change my mind a dozen times before I decide on what I want to do.”

“And, you know… we might not be together by then,” Yukari began, “and Hitomi and I might go to a different university when we finish school. But we don’t have to worry about that now. We can just enjoy this moment, the three of us, together.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” Hitomi beamed. Then she gasped. “Hold on, the sun’s about to go down. If we don’t take our pictures now, they won’t turn out when we get them developed!”

“Oh, you’re right!” Yukari reached in her bag and fished out the camera, handing it to Amano. “You have the longest arm,” she explained quickly.

“All right,” he said. “Close together, and 3… 2… 1…”

From that other set of memories, all Yukari has remaining is feelings, and the occasional déjà vu. But she can put this set of memories, captured tangibly in photographs, in her new scrapbook, her and Hitomi’s high school scrapbook. Next to it, a page she tore out of her sketchbook, of Hitomi in motion, perpetually, circles for her hips, knees, and ankles, lines for her legs.


End file.
